Flash Fiction: Nick

The way she crossed her arms, shivering, was not the most enticing way that Nick had ever been propositioned. The minimal, thigh length coat she wore over her skimpy clothes offered little protection against the wind and snow.

Nick was not the portly, red cheeked elf he was often portrayed as. That was someone else, another aspect perhaps. He’d kept the beard, though.

He gave the woman his trench coat.

“What’s this for?” she said.

Nick smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

Later, she would find the purse of gold coins in the inner coat pocket.